They Were Right
by Spitfire F.22
Summary: Anakin Skwalker reflects on the reason he saved his son. ROTJ


**My First Star Wars Fic, hope you like it.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars. No kidding.**

Why?

Why did I do it?

Why did I give up my life, my power, everything that I had given my life to gain, and submit myself to horrible, searing pan, pain that I had known once before?

It was because of her.

When I looked at the boy, my son, writhing on the floor, my former master's hatred surging over him as blue lightning, I saw _her._

He shared almost none of her lovely features, of course, but it was undeniably her presence that I felt. I now knew that my daughter was that Rebel spy that I had captured years ago. She may have shared in her mother's spirit, but it was the boy who had his mother's heart.

I could feel his love for me, Anakin Skywalker, as he was brought to me on Endor. He would never love Vader, but he believed that, somewhere under all that armor, Anakin still lived. Just like his mother had.

He asked me, begged me to leave my master, my empire, and to join him. Just as she had.

Though my former master had lied to me, I now knew the truth. She had died giving birth to them. And when she died, she knew that there was still good in me. Through the Force, her last words still echoed to me.

For years, I had feared death. For a Sith, death is the end. I knew that, when I died, there would be nothing but suffering for me. That was the price of ultimate power. I didn't fear the pain, though I knew that perhaps I should. A Dark Lord lives in pain, survives through pain.

What I feared was my knowledge that, when I died, I might not even remember her. I knew we would never be together. She had undoubtedly received her reward, and I could never follow that path again.

When I saw the boy, writhing on the floor, I remembered her. I remembered that I had only chosen this dark path to save her, and I had failed. But I saw in the boy another chance. I could never save her, but her heart lived on in him, and I could save that. He called out to me, Anakin Skywalker. "Father, save me!"

He still trusted, still believed. He had cut off my hand, and was in his final moments, but he still believed that I could return.

With great effort, I lifted my weakened body off the floor. I stood by that Sith's side, as my son continued to cry out. I would not let her die again.

My hands, or what was left of my mechanical limbs, when around the Dark Lord, as I carried him to the shaft. It was all I could think of, to cast him into the depths. No thoughts of being the chosen one, of fulfilling the prophesy came to mind. I could feel the light returning, as I cast off the Darkness, but didn't care. All I thought of was saving _her_, through her son.

I cast him down, and just began to feel the lightning coursing through me. With nothing left to do, I collapsed in pain. He was safe, and through him, she was safe, too.

As I laid there, a delirious joy came to me. As I felt the light returning, I saw that, maybe, I could see her again. Even if I could not, I had proven her right. Her last words were not in vain.

Luke, now fully my son, dragged me towards the hanger bay, to escape. I asked him to lift my mask, so I could se him with my own eyes. He worried. "But Father, you'll die."

"Nothing can stop that, now." As he lifted my mask, the light became unbearable, but I kept my eyes open. I had to see him, and the last vestiges of _her._

"Now, go, my son, leave me." I had died to save him, at least he should have sense enough not to kill himself by staying here. But he was just like his mother. He wouldn't leave without me, not of his own free will.

"Father, I've got to save you." The boy was determined. Even as the station collapsed around us, his love knew no bounds.

"You already have. You were right, Luke. Tell your sister, you were right." I spoke to him, but not just to him. It was his mother's heart, her love that continued to survive in this boy, that had saved me. He couldn't know that, at least not yet. I felt myself slipping away, and had to tell not just him, but _her._ they were right.

They were right.

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